Sunder
by xAndarielx
Summary: Sarah has disappeared and not even the Goblin King can find her. But that is only the beginning. Old magic runs deep and destiny cannot be denied. J/S.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **A few months ago I wrote my first Labyrinth fanfic in over two years. Many people asked me to continue it, but it just felt to me that it worked best as a standalone piece...for now. To make up for that, I am now pleased to offer you this newest story. A tiny bit of background info on this one:

Camping with my family a few weekends ago, I made the brilliant decision to take a stroll through the lovely woods around us...right before a storm. (And did I mention I'm afraid of lightning?) Naturally, for the first time in my life as an outdoors enthusiast I found myself totally lost, soaked through, and nearly paralyzed by fear as lightning flashed above me.

Nice time to come up with an idea for an (hopefully) original Labyrinth plot, right? I thought so. For the record, I did make it back to camp safely. The lightning didn't get me. (It will someday...I just _know_ it. Ah, the life of an astraphobe. But that's another story.)

Anyway. Back to the point. This story is a step outside of the box for me, seeing as it starts quickly and will definitely be on the far side of the fantasy genre...for me. I would appreciate any and all comments and reviews (no flames, darlings) and hope that you enjoy what I have to offer.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Labyrinth_ and its original characters in any way, shape or form. I'm just a fan.

* * *

It was a strange day for the world, as she knew it, to disappear completely. Strange because it was such an average, nondescript day, the kind where it was difficult to believe that magic still existed, even as it rampaged unannounced through her life and deposited her in another plane of existence.

Sarah Williams was no stranger to the magic of fairytales, the power of dreams and wishes. She was, however, completely unprepared for magic to appear so forcefully in the middle of a boring psychology lecture on a Tuesday.

It happened, as magic often does, without warning. Professor Coles was lecturing in his usual fashion, clicking through slides on a rickety projector and droning on about some form of psychosis or another. A boy in the row in front of her had fallen asleep, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. Two girls behind her had been talking since the lecture began, and Sarah was wishing she had someone to talk to, if only to save her from old Coles' dreary old lecture.

There was a sudden lurch. Her stomach dropped, colors swirled around her—it was like a page was being turned, and she was merely an illustration upon it rather than the one reading the storybook. Everything changed. The auditorium was gone. There were no voices, no slumbering students, no ancient professors--not even a projector. In their place were thick, somber pine trees, as tall and as dark as the sky that towered high above their prickly foliage. It was raining wherever she was, and thunder rumbled ominously from somewhere in the distance.

"No." It was all she could think to say, a single word of denial uttered into the wet solitude around her. "No! _No_!" Sarah was screaming now, turning in a circle and spitting out whatever angry words she could think of. "You think this is _fair_? You think that after six years you can just _magic_ me away?"

Her words were full of pure malice, for she was waiting for _him_ to arrive. _Him_—the one who was undoubtedly responsible for this unforgiveable affront. Let _him_ try to explain it to her. Hell hath no fury like a Sarah scorned, and she was ready to unleash all the fury she could muster on that crystal-bearing, glitter-loving, no good very bad—

The anger mounting inside of her suddenly bled away, draining through her feet and into the ground beneath them. Something was wrong, and terribly so. She could feel it in her bones, in the essence of her being and the depths of her soul. Her emerald eyes swept the landscape that surrounded her. Mist hung lightly in the air, dabbling around tree trunks and swirling at her feet. It wasn't the mere fact that she had been transposed into another reality that disturbed her so. Something was coming, some_one_ was—

The caw of a raven sounded from high above her. Her head jerked up as she searched desperately for the source. There, on a branch many feet above her head—a solitary raven, black and slick like oil and peering down at her with eerie comprehension in its eyes. Her experience with ravens was limited, but to her it seemed enormous, at least the size of a well-fed house cat.

The raven turned its head at an odd angle, one bright eye fixed on her. Watching. Waiting.

Those _eyes_. There was something terrible about them, something altogether too human and comprehending. What was it waiting for what? Sarah wasn't about to find out. Backing up a step, then another, she spread her fingers in the air in a defensive gesture. Still the raven watched her. It cawed again—a warning. She continued her cautious retreat.

_Stop_, the eyes seemed to say. Whispered words fluttered in her mind, confusing her, commanding her to halt and obey. But she would not. Sarah Williams had learned not to fear birds—_Owls_—long ago, and if she could help it, she wasn't going to begin now. Then again, this was no ordinary bird. Whatever it wanted, it would not be pleasant. After gaining a few feet, the brunette turned on her heels and broke into a run.

The raven dove from its perch, its massive wings beating powerfully behind her and warning her of its approach. The terrain declined before her, the scraggily underbrush growing thicker and impeding her progress as she raced through it. Rain pounded down on her, running in rivulets down her face and arms and soaking her hair and clothing. The cadence of her breath increased, her heart pounded violently against her ribcage. She could feel the raven brush by her shoulder, one sharp talon violently ripping at her shoulder and tearing through fabric and flesh.

Gasping in pain, fueled by fear, Sarah pressed on, increasing her speed and ignoring her burning lungs. "Leave me alone! Leave me _alone_!" The monstrous bird was swooping in for another attack, and in a desperate attempt to keep it away from her she threw her arms into the air, striking haphazardly behind her at thick feathers and the steel body beneath them. It was even larger than she had supposed before, easily half her size. The raven cawed triumphantly, effortlessly breaking through her meager offense and latching its talons into both of her shoulders.

A scream erupted from Sarah's lips, echoed by thunder booming all around them. The bird was lifting her from the ground, taking her with him in its flight. Lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the brutal bird and its newly caught prey. She struggled desperately, ignoring the burning, pulsing pain in her shoulders where the raven held her, knowing that _everything_ rested on her escape.

"Help me!" she screamed to the heavens, to whatever gods would listen to a pitiful young woman's cry for help. "Help me, please! _Please_!"

And as if in answer to her prayers, the long branches of a pine reached for them. She couldn't believe it at first, sure that in her hysteria she was imagining things. She knew when they collided with the thick branches, however, that it was indeed true. The bird screeched, enraged, as it lost its hold on her and was forced to retreat from the entwining branches. Sarah felt herself falling with impossible gentleness from branch to branch until she was deposited on the ground, safe for the moment beside the wide trunk of the pine.

"Thank you," she panted, unsure who it was her thanks was due. But there was no time to think anymore on her rescue. The raven was back, its fierce eyes locked onto her as it swooped in for another try. She rolled to her side, searching for anything to use as a weapon against it. There, not two feet from her, was a small boulder, heavy enough to be wielded as a weapon but small enough to be grasped in her hand. Scrambling towards it, her fingers clasped onto it just in time. Coming around and swinging her arm with her, she grunted as the rock connected solidly with the side of the raven's head.

It screeched again, falling back and giving Sarah another chance for escape. She forced herself to her feet, willing herself to block out the pain from the wounds in her shoulders. She did not get far, for she was weary, wounded, exhausted. Having crossed worlds and fought with an outrageously overgrown bird, her stamina was understandably running out. Falling to her knees, the last of her strength ebbed away as she collapsed against the gentle incline of the forest floor.

"Help me," she begged again, her voice strained. She could feel rain water falling on and around her, mingling with the warm blood pouring from her shoulders. "Please, please, _please_, _help me_." Sarah was only vaguely aware of the increase of rain. A moment more and she was slipping, her body propelled by a burst of water. The flooding water bore her along, passing around trees and over the undergrowth, never once letting her slip beneath its surface. Her mind dipped in and out of consciousness, fighting to maintain its fragile hold on reality. There was a tingling sensation on her skin, like she had passed again through some kind of a barrier. Was this what it was to die? To slip unnoticed from life into a world beyond even the reach of magic? Feeling the scourge of defeat, Sarah waited for death to claim her.

Yet death stayed its hand. Awareness slowly filled her. Blinking slowly, she managed to raise her head, surprised to find she was no longer surrounded by a river of water. There was soft, damp grass beneath her, made wet by the gentle fall of rain above them. The clouds were a lighter gray and there was no more thunder or lightning punctuating the rainstorm.

Summoning whatever strength she still possessed, the sodden woman rolled to her hands and knees, steadfastly ignoring the fierce pain that filled her. She was in a clearing, a valley safely ensconced inside an impenetrable wall of unyielding pines. In the distance was a cottage, whitewashed and welcoming and waiting for her arrival. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Instinctively she knew there would be warmth and safety there, a place for her to rest and care for her injuries. Stumbling through the tall green grass, she discovered she had arrived at the cottage much sooner than she would have thought possible.

The rounded wooden door opened easily to her, allowing her entry and shutting agreeably behind her. Sarah had no time to take in any immediate details; her vision was beginning to blur as exhaustion once again reared its determined head. Fortunately she could see a bed not far from her, covered in clean white linens and with an old quilt folded over the carefully carved footboard.

She moved as if in a dream, going to the side of the inviting bed and collapsing on top of it. Had she remained awake just a moment more, she might have noticed the dry, warm quilt that obligingly crept over her from her feet, tucking itself in around her. But sleep had already seized her, relieving her of her pain and exhaustion. For the moment at least, she knew no more.

* * *

Hmm. Just what is going on here? Guesses, anyone? I'll give you one hint: Jareth has nothing to do with it. Yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Even Goblin Kings slept. Granted, Jareth did not require very much sleep, but he still enjoyed a good night's rest every once in awhile, hoping to lose himself in blissful oblivion for a few hours.

Sleep came to him fitfully this night. His dreams were haunted by the one thing he could never have, that unattainable desire that he had yet to fully acknowledge. His hands fisted in silken sheets as he moved in his sleep, his lips uttering whispered words like prayers in the night.

Mismatched eyes flew open. He sat up in one smooth, rapid motion, staring into the darkness that surrounded him.

She was _gone_. He felt the connection severed with a savage tear. Producing a perfect crystal in his hand, he could see even in the darkness that it reflected that which he already knew.

The crystal was empty. Sarah was gone.

But where? _Why_? Rage suffused through him, tempered with possessiveness and an emotion that did not often grace the Goblin King—fear. "Show me Sarah," he demanded, willing to hope that by commanding his magic verbally it would somehow improve matters. The crystal shone prettily, but nothing more.

"_No_!" He fought to gain control, determined to empty his mind so he could think more clearly. But it was of no use; his blood boiled and his temper flared as his thoughts drifted to the woman he seemed to have lost all over again: _Sarah_.

He had done everything within his power to forget about her, to move on with his far more important life and forget about the small, complaint-laden human girl that had turned his Labyrinth on its head. But for _her_ to leave _him_ behind—it was inconceivable, not to be borne! Even as he had struggled to free himself from the spell she had so cleverly—however unwittingly—woven, he had ensured that she would never be free of him. He planted himself into her dreams in retaliation, sent his goblins to lurk around corners and in shadows, even dared to watch her in the form of a snowy white owl whenever the urge struck him.

Often he had watched her, possessed at odd moments to take up a crystal and peer into her mundane mortal life. She lived as any other mortal girl, making friends and attending parties, completing her studies in—what did the humans call it?—high school, taking classes at a university. She loved her brother, the impressionable young Toby, made peace with her stepmother, and even had the audacity to date a mortal boy or two.

He scoffed at that thought, arching a dramatically angled eyebrow. As if a mere mortal could _ever_ surpass the majesty that was the Goblin King.

And now? Now she had disappeared, unlocking the final truth so that Jareth would finally understand; no matter how he tried to forget her, and no matter how many small punishments he doled out to her, in some small way he would always be connected to Sarah Williams.

He was infuriated with the empty crystal he held in his hand. One glare from his furious eyes was all it took to send the magical sphere bursting into blue flames. They burned intensely but did not scorch his hand, fizzing out as he lost interest and turned his head away.

Jareth needed answers, and they certainly would not come from the silence of his royal bedchambers. Without another thought he disappeared from the room, appearing a moment later in his dust and dirt covered throne room, fully clothed in somber black to match his mood.

"Wake up, all of you," he commanded in a powerful voice, sparks literally shooting from his fingers. There was a sluggish burst of activity, instigated by the goblins that slept all around him, rising from their slumber in various stages of fatigue and confusion. "Wake up, I say! Where are the goblins I sent to watch the human girl?"

He was answered by mumbles and groans. They didn't even have the good sense to tremble before him, wrapped in lethargy as they were. Goblin ale was potent indeed, and the filthy empty tankards that littered the floor seemed to indicate they'd had a rather long night imbibing that thick, foul-smelling liquid while their king slept on.

"Well? Where are they?!"

"N-n-not back yet," a small, pointy-eared goblin informed him, taking a patched hat off his head and gripping it in trembling hands. At last, a worthy candidate for Jareth to unleash his full ire upon.

"Not back yet? And _why_, pray tell, is that?"

The little goblin was shaking too violently to respond, his yellow hued skin deepening to a sickly orange color. "D-d-don't know, K-k-king," he finally managed to squeak.

At least the little fellow was being honest. Jareth spared him, turning the brunt of his burning gaze on another goblin. Compared to the others, this one was a great and hulking fellow, sitting cross-legged on the floor and scratching his head distractedly.

"You look to be a bright sort of creature," Jareth mocked. The insult was lost on the goblin, for he grinned proudly at what he thought to be a compliment. "I will repeat my question: Where are the goblins I sent Aboveground?"

The large goblin pondered this for a moment, continuing with his head-scratching. "Don't know," he finally answered, shrugging his shoulders. Just when Jareth was ready to explode in a fury-fueled tirade, the goblin suggested mildly, "You could bring them back, though."

Well. Of course he could. His rage had blinded him to the obvious, apparently. But the Goblin King would not reveal his oversight, choosing to laugh disdainfully as though it had all been a kind of test. His goblins were used to being tested. They laughed along, still a bit sluggishly, perhaps, but with feeling. Jareth's laughter ended abruptly, his strange eyes lit dangerously. Sweeping his hand in the air, the goblins that fell within the vicinity of his gesture quickly scrambled away. A flick of his wrist and a trio of new goblins appeared there, bewilderedly glancing around them.

He wasted no time in getting straight to the point. "Where is Sarah?"

Three blank pairs of eyes stared back at him. "Sarah?" they questioned in unison, their brows furrowing in confusion.

"_Sarah_," Jareth ground out, towering over them with arms akimbo. "The human girl I sent you to watch. _Where is she_?"

Silence was his only answer. At last the goblin in the middle stepped forward, looking up at his king with infuriatingly little fear. "Your Majesty…um, who's Sarah?"

He couldn't be serious. Jareth looked to the other two, eyebrows raised. They both shrugged their shoulders, talking briefly amongst themselves until the smallest of the three joined his bold peer, looking up with a little more of the uneasiness required when addressing his king. "Don't know no Sarah," he timidly confirmed.

His goblins were known for a great many things. Their stupidity, as it was unfairly reputed throughout many of the surrounding kingdoms, was first and foremost. Although Jareth often abused their slightly lower intellects, when he was out of their earshot he was always quick to vehemently deny they were any more foolish than plenty of neighboring nobility he knew. Their ale was rather infamous, as was their fascination with chickens, of all things, but they were never, _ever_ linked with dishonesty. His goblins did not possess enough cunning to indulge in lies and falsehoods.

The fear inside of him was doubling, eating away at him and threatening to overwhelm him. He would not panic, could not even think of such a thing. He needed to think clearly, to approach the situation without the unnecessary burden of excess emotion. Clamping down fiercely on those rising emotions within him, he ordered his goblins to go about their business before disappearing from the throne room.

If he wanted answers, he would have to find them himself.

* * *

_For the second time in all of his existence, he had been thwarted. It had come as a shock, the realization that he had failed to complete such a simple task. The girl had been unsuspecting and unprepared for any kind of assault. It should have been as simple as snapping his fingers to whisk her away from her world and into his._

_What, then, had gone wrong? His magic has faltered. He had felt it weakening, his grasp on the mortal crumbling away a mere instant after he snatched her. No matter, he had thought smugly, following her trail easily in an attempt to finish his task. Until the moment he discovered where it was she had been misplaced, all of it had seemed to be going rather well._

_He should have known there would have been some interference. Too often he forgot that there were beings nearly as powerful as he, blinded by the weakness of compassion and a false idea of good defeating evil. He should have known that his one little act wouldn't go completely unnoticed. Yet how could he have known that _she_ would interfere? _

_His magic had been weak in the realm he found himself in, and with little else at his disposal, his transformation into the raven should have had more than a fighting chance against a defenseless human girl. Her struggles against him had been valiant, even admirable when he thought on it, but she was no match for him._

_Had _she_ not interfered yet again, it would have all been done and finished. Once the very trees surrounding them had moved in defense of the mortal, there was nothing more for him to do. The mortal known as Sarah had been taken from his very fingertips, so to speak, rushed away beyond his reach and beyond his sight for the time being._

_Yes. For the time being._

_It would only be a matter of time before he came for her, and then he could proceed as planned. After all, if there was one thing he had an abundance of, it was time._

_How had he heard it put once? Oh, yes…_

It's only forever. Not long at all.

* * *

Journeying Aboveground always left a sour taste in his mouth. There was something so disdainful about this world, devoid as it was of almost all magic. Once, many thousands of years before, it had been a world of marvelous potential, brimming with excitement as magic and myth scintillated across the young realm. Humans had always been fragile, but before they had gained their undeserved sense of grandeur and self-importance, they had been young and malleable, beloved and pampered by the gods for their indomitable spirits and thirst for knowledge.

It had been that insatiable thirst that had driven them beyond the call of magic, however, and that was the real tragedy of it all. Now they were possessed only with the desire to make _something_ of their miniscule lives, to forego life's real pleasures for the pursuit a piece of vastly misconstrued immortality.

That was where Sarah was so very different. She had embraced magic, and it, in turn, had embraced her. But Aboveground was no place for her to uncover her potential. How she had been so determined to return to this mundane existence when offered a life of boundless magic on a silver platter, he would never understand. That question alone had fueled his rage for so long, he had been all but unable to attend to more important matters, such as running his kingdom as any proper king ought to.

There again was only another piece of fodder to add to that rage. Whenever things went hopelessly wrong in the Underground, it was always Sarah's fault. It was Sarah's fault for refusing him, for choosing mediocrity over a path of glory, for driving him to distraction no matter how much time and distance was put between them.

He discovered that he could appear within the residence of Sarah's family with no resistance whatsoever. There were no barriers to be met, no form of magic whatsoever to bar him from entering. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Self-control alone had not been enough to keep him from re-entering Sarah's life before. He had been able to get close, but never this close. From that fateful night of her rejection on, her home had been closed to the likes of him. What had happened to change all of that?

The house was empty, warm and silent in the spring night. He stood in the bedroom that belonged to Sarah's parents, the very same room he had met face to face for the first time with the headstrong brunette. There were no goblins to precede him, no glitter or claps of thunder to herald his arrival. Simply put, there was no message for him to put across this time around. His intent was clear and his stride purposeful as he left the memory-filled room, stepping into the hallway and casting a suspicious glance around him.

For a being that feared almost nothing, the silence was distinctly unnerving. But nothing could prepare him for what he found upon reaching Sarah's childhood bedroom.

Nothing. Toys, trinkets, clothing, furniture…all that had consisted of her bedroom was gone, and in its place was a very feminine office that practically reeked of the girl's stepmother. Light colored wood, gaudy floral prints, mauve colored lampshades...it was the kind of décor scheme that Jareth could confidently say Sarah wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole.

His heart was in his throat, a sensation he had known only sparingly in his life. What was going on here? It was unbearable to remain in the room any longer. He stalked back into the hallway, taking notice for the first time of the framed photos adorning the walls. Summoning a glowing crystal, he held it up to each of the pictures, searching with deepening dread for the one face he longed to see. There was young Toby, pictured at various ages with and without his parents, but Sarah could not be found in a single one. Most chilling of all was a large family portrait, no older than a year or two, perhaps, completely devoid of any lovely young women at all.

It was all adding up to a terrible conclusion. Sarah wasn't just missing. She was _gone_, her very existence stolen away by only the gods knew who. Jareth snarled, slashing his hand violently in the air and sending the various frames crashing to the ground. What did it all _mean_? She had been whole and alive one moment, and then simply erased from her world the next. Only beings such as himself had enough power to effect such an act, and fewer still had magic potent enough to do it all against her will.

He would not give up all hope yet. He exited the house the way he came in a path of destruction, objects crashing all around in his wake. Thrusting his arms before the doors to the balcony, they flew open in the completely wrong direction, torn from their hinges and ripped into large pieces of splintered wood and shattered glass over the balcony and into the darkness below. One step more and he had taken flight, changing into the familiar form of an owl and soaring over the sleepy town below.

* * *

**AN: Two chapters down and this story is already taking a totally different direction than I anticipated. Your reviews have all been so encouraging that I just want to thank ALL of you! I'll try to update soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Robert and Toby Williams watched as their wife and mother delicately picked her way through the debris-covered hallway, shattered pieces of glass and splinters of destroyed frames crunching under her high heeled feet. Karen had never looked so distressed, her eyes wide with gathering tears and small whimpers escaping from her mauve lips.

Gazing down at the shredded family photos, Toby shook his head sadly. Robert moved past his son, placing a comforting hand on Karen's shoulders. "Karen, honey, I'm so sorry. So many priceless memories…"

"Oh, Robert," she gasped, the dam of hysteria visibly beginning to break. "My…my _carpet_." Bursting into tears, she collapsed in his arms.

* * *

Hands on hips, the Goblin King surveyed an abysmal little room with regal disdain. Plain white walls, utilitarian tan carpet, and a closet that wasn't large enough worth mentioning composed the box that evidently served as student living quarters. There was a small wooden desk in the corner with several large textbooks stacked carefully on top and a twin bed with a no-nonsense green comforter inhabiting another corner, but other than that the room was staid and plain and as unimaginable as possible.

In sum, it was a room that couldn't possibly belong to Sarah. And yet it did—or rather, it _had_. No colorful posters, no bright fabrics, not a single whimsical trinket to be found; no, this little room was certainly no longer Sarah's. It galled him, to be sure, but he was too weary to visit any sort of destruction upon it as he had at the Williams' home. His thorough search for any trace of the woman had finally led him here, and he could not escape the wrenching sense of failure that left him feeling cold and worn.

Jareth was running out of options. He was not the sort who panicked, although his heart _was_ beating unnaturally fast, and the time for tantrums, had he been inclined to that sort of thing, had certainly passed. It was a time for action, which was precisely his problem. Where did he even begin? If he only had some clue to her whereabouts, some hint of a trail, _something_…

"Um…'scuse me, Highness, sir?" A slightly webbed hand tugging on his cape accompanied the squeaky voice interrupting his rapid-fire thoughts. Glancing down with a look a sharp look of displeasure, Jareth jerked his cape free from the goblin's little grasp.

"And what do you think you're doing here…Floo, is it?" The little fellow looked momentarily pleased that his monarch had remembered his name. Little did any of the goblins know that the King of the Goblins knew each and every one of their names. Although he'd never admit it to any of them—he'd yet to admit it to himself in the first place—the fact was that Jareth did care for his goblins. They were _his_, after all, and whatever others might say about the creatures, they were certainly unique. There was something to be said for that, at least.

"Floo is so very sorry, Royal Kingness, sir, but Floo has important message for King." Jareth just managed to smother a look of hope, waiting expectantly with an impatient twist of his lips.

When no further information was forthcoming, he demanded with more ire than was strictly necessary, "_Well_?"

Visibly shaking in his tiny boots, Floo exclaimed, "AladyiswaitingforKingbackatcastle! _Eep_!" Jareth had taken a menacing step forward, effectively trapping the poor goblin between his gleaming riding boots and the flimsy wooden desk.

"Try again, Floo," Jareth growled menacingly. "Slowly this time, if you please."

A loud swallow, and then, "Pretty lady waiting for King, sir. Back at castle, sir. Floo came as quick as he could to tell Exalted Ruler King. Sir."

"A lady? _Sarah_?" Floo squeaked again, cowering before Jareth as he advanced even closer. "Is it the Lady Sarah who is waiting for me?" Was it possible that his search was finally coming to an end? Against all odds, perhaps…

"Not Sarah, sir."

His fleeting hope instantly suppressed, he drew to his full height, turning away from a very relieved-looking Floo. There was nothing left for him in the human world. His search there was over, a failure, and he had little choice but to return Underground anyway, where he would find another way to continue his search.

For he would not, _could_ not give up. Sarah did exist, and by the gods, she would be found. He would find her.

"Home, Floo," he said wearily, and with a snap of his fingers, they were gone.

* * *

There was indeed a lady awaiting him in his throne room, and while it was not Sarah Williams, it was a lady whom he recognized instantly. Eyes widening in surprise, Jareth immediately fell on bended knee, his head lowered submissively. "My Lady," he said reverently, lifting his head only when he heard a tinkle of gentle laughter.

"Really, Jareth," the ethereal beauty sighed, gliding towards him with a grace that was otherworldly. "You needn't stoop before me, especially in your own throne room. Arise, Goblin King."

"My Lady…" He regained his feet smoothly, lips slightly parted in an outward expression of shock.

"As I recall, you once called me by name," she gently reminded him. "Will you not do so now?"

"Of course, Melisande," Jareth immediately complied, wondering that the span of centuries had done nothing to change her. If anything, she appeared younger than he remembered her, so that they now appeared much closer in age than they had before, so long ago. Power radiated from her, casting her aura in a silvery light that was easily visible to the naked eye. She was equal parts golden and pale, her skin so flawless that it shone iridescently, and with features so fine and delicate that an angel would have wept with envy. Her eyes of palest blue glowed with care and compassion, tinged with warm familiarity as she fixed her gaze upon Jareth.

"It has been such a long time, Jareth," she sighed, hands clasped demurely in front of her fine golden gown. "The years have been kind to you in many respects, I sincerely hope."

Jareth was quickly recovering his composure, his customary smirk now back in place, though it was lacking any sort of bite to it. "The years have certainly been very long, Melisande, but they have not been nearly as kind to me as they have been to you."

"Flatterer," Melisande chided with a smile. A moment of silence stretched between them, and her smile fell as she took a longer look at the man before her. She looked puzzled now, and more than a little concerned. "You look older than you ought," she commented, tilting her head slightly. "I sense fear in you, Jareth. Surely you are not frightened of me?"

"Of you? Never, Lady Melisande." His tone was as light as he could make it, but he already knew that there was no fooling one such as her. "I am thinking of another. Someone who is…beyond my power at the moment."

"Someone you care a great deal for?"

"I would not say that necessarily," he scoffed, though his words sounded hollow and false, even to himself. "It is someone I…cannot seem to forget, no matter how hard I try."

"I see," Melisande murmured, turning away from him and slowly moving towards the throne. She stopped a foot or two before it, staring at it in deep concentration. A short distance behind her, Jareth watched her carefully, unable to fully shake his bewilderment at seeing her after so long. The events of the past few hours were strange enough that he vaguely wondered if he were only dreaming, though he knew immediately that that was nearly impossible. He crafted dreams, but seldom did he dream them himself.

"What if I told you that I knew where she was?"

Jareth was so startled by her words that he nearly stumbled back, his jaw dropping open and his fists clenching at his side. As her words sank in, he took three swift strides toward her. "Sarah? You know where she is?" There was no mistaking the desperation in his words, the raw hope that danced around them and through them. "Please, Melisande—_please_…"

The woman had turned back to face him, frowning slightly, her eyes seeming to pierce straight through him. "And this is the woman that you think of and fear for, but are not concerned for, Jareth? Think carefully. I think I may say that I know you well enough to see that this is someone you care a _great_ deal for, whether you like it or not."

"Do not toy with me, Melisande, please! Tell me where she is!" Uncertainty flitted across her countenance, and immediately Jareth drew back. "No, Melisande. No. Tell me…tell me that Michael has nothing to do with this…"

She inhaled sharply, nodding sadly, as though words escaped her. Whirling away from her, Jareth was instantly filled with a tightly wound rage, stalking several steps towards an open window as his hands raked agitatedly through his hair. His breaths were labored, his eyes lit with fire. At the edge of the stone alcove he wordlessly vented his anger with a fury-filled yell that sent the birds far below flying from their trees.

"Jareth." A delicate hand at his shoulder jerked him back to reality, and his ire deflated immediately. He looked shamefaced and tired, and with a low groan he found himself unable to meet her eyes. "Jareth, I know how this must make you feel. Truly, I do," she reiterated when he jerked his head once in firm denial. "But you must listen to me; Michael does not have her, Jareth. He failed. _I_ have her, and she is safe for the time being. But time, _time_ is of the essence. I have few hiding places from my brother anymore, and it is only so long before he uncovers her whereabouts again."

"Why, Melisande?" Jareth demanded, and when his eyes met hers over his shoulder, they were filled with equal parts aching relief and terrible conern—yes, _concern_, fear, even. "Why would he… No, nevermind. It can wait for now. Tell me where she is and I will fetch her at once."

"Yes, Jareth, yes. But first, I must tell you this—from this moment on, I can no longer help you. I sensed his intent, felt him reaching for her, and I acted. I am weary, Jareth," she sighed, and for one fleeting moment Jareth thought he could see the weight upon her slim shoulders, the shadows marring the pearlescent skin beneath her eyes. "My power is not what it used to be, and my time amongst your kind, for now, at least, is finally drawing to a close. When you go to her, it will be up to you to protect her. Michael is a formidable enemy, as well you know. I do not know what his intentions for her were, but if you care for her as I believe you do…"

Her words trailed off, and Jareth was grateful for it. He knew well what Michael was capable of, the true antithesis to his twin sister in every way. If past events between Michael and Jareth were any indication, it was only too easy to believe that Michael was bent on some sort of revenge. Gods damn him for bringing Sarah into this. He would _pay_ for this act, Jareth vowed, but first, he _had_ to get to Sarah, especially now that he knew how much danger she was truly in.

"I understand, Melisande." His words were deceptively soft. "Please, _please_, tell me where is. _Tell me where Sarah is_."

Melisande nodded once, twice, her flaxen curls waving. "Take my hand, and I will take you to her." He did so, but again she hesitated. "Jareth, you must swear to me that you will take care of her. I cannot bear to think that I have saved her from one evil only to give her to another. But I fear there is no one else, no other powerful enough to protect her. And given your past together…"

Jareth looked affronted, wounded, even, though it lasted only for the space of a heartbeat. Nodding slowly, solemnly, he told her, "She would never come to any harm by my hand. I do…that is…" Swallowing his hesitation, he finally admitted, "I _do_ care for her. I have only her safety in mind, Melisande. Surely you can see that."

Another piercing look, and Melisande visibly softened. "I see, Jareth. I see." Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back, she inhaled deeply, concentrating. A moment later, there was a shimmer of magic in the air, and they were gone.

* * *

**AN: -hangs head in shame-...remember me? Oh, dear...I completely understand if you don't. It has been quite some time since I've had the proper inspiration to get some serious work done on this story, and I cannot begin to apologize for the inexcusably long wait for this update. I sincerely hope you can forgive me for my disappearance. Life is...life, but I feel that I'm finally ready to return to my stories again. **

**And while I'm apologizing, I'm also sorry if this chapter leaves you with more questions than answers...but I can't just give it all away! I have to keep you coming back for more, don't I? Suffice to say, the story is already veering from the original plot I had in mind, but I have high hopes of getting some more work done on it in a more, um, _timely _manner. Thank you in advance for reading and reviewing, and once again...I'm sorry for the wait!**


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